


We're driving toward the morning sun, where all your blood is washed away and all you did will be undone

by Cyane



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Multi, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:45:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyane/pseuds/Cyane
Summary: On the anniversary of Dave's death, Klaus and Five visit the Vietnam memorial.





	We're driving toward the morning sun, where all your blood is washed away and all you did will be undone

**Author's Note:**

> Title from twentyonepilots' _Taxi Cab_. That song really fit the tone I was going for. 
> 
> More Klaus angst, (and a surprising amount of Five angst) because I'm trash. And because Five and Klaus are so goddamn similar. Enjoy!

 

 

     If nothing else, Klaus had been right about one thing: Five was, in fact, an addict.

He didn’t agree with his brother often, especially when he had vehemently denied the accusations beforehand, but when the apocalypse ended, it was clear that Klaus had a point.

Five was just so terribly _bored._

He had no idea what to do with himself in the wake of everything that had happened. The apocalypse had consumed several decades of his life, had all been culminating to one single day-- and when that day ended, and the world was still in one piece, where was he supposed to go from there? There was nothing more for him to do.

Five was also obviously still stuck in his younger body, which had become something of a living nightmare.

He didn’t have a life to go back to, he looked too young to be taken seriously by anyone important, and going back to work for the Commission wasn’t exactly appealing.

At least he could revel in the fact that he’d managed to save his family, including Vanya.

He and Luther got to finally meet Claire, and Allison and Vanya’s conversations were gradually becoming more comfortable. Diego was still a force unto himself, but Grace was around and he seemed to have finally given up on his quest to avenge Patch. There was just no one left to fight. There was no one left to kill.

Five could understand that frustration on a personal level.

And then there was Klaus, who was shockingly sober and living back in the mansion. They were the last two siblings still living there (although Klaus was still insistent about Ben being around, and after the stunt in the theater hall, Five finally believed him).

Diego took Grace out on frequent walks, showing her bits of the outside world that she'd longed to see for so long. Pogo was the same cryptic groundskeeper he’d always been, but somehow Five found that more comforting than anything-- one of the few parts of their childhood that wasn’t inherently bad, one of the few parts that seemed to always remain a constant.

Putting Dolores back in the retail store hadn’t been easy, but he knew she would be happier with her friends than sitting around the mansion day after day with nothing new to look at. 

But Five knew that there was a reason he and Klaus were the only ones left. It wasn’t because they were clinging to a fond memory, it was just because they had nowhere else to go.

Five had spent most of his life aimlessly traveling from place to place, carrying Dolores behind him and setting up camp wherever he could. He didn’t like the thought of Klaus in the same position... the idea of Klaus cycling from rehab to drugs, sleeping on the ground, shooting up his veins, not even bothering to ask the others for help. Having no one.

Because the more Five thought about it, the more he seemed to see  _himself_ in Klaus, and he hated that. He didn't want to compare himself to a junkie, and he didn't want to compare Klaus to an assassin. 

There was also the matter of the briefcase. Five had immediately picked up on the symptoms of time travel. Almost _ten months,_ Klaus had said. Not as long as forty-something years, but still— that was a long time to be wherever he’d been. And based off of the army vest, new tattoo, and dog tags... well, Five wasn’t an idiot.  

They had too much in common. So maybe, Five supposed, it was fitting that they were the two to stick around after everything. 

 

-

 

     When Five woke up, bright afternoon light was wafting through the curtains of his bedroom, illuminating the room. He could hear mild traffic coming from the streets outside, faint  _whooshes_ of cars going by, and birds chirping. It was uncomfortably idyllic. 

He continued lying in bed for a moment, taking it all in. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so well or for so long. Things were so calm— another glaring reminder that the apocalypse had ended, and that Five had absolutely nothing to do. 

 _Why hasn't Klaus woken me up yet?_ Five thought abruptly. 

When Klaus was sober, he got extremely twitchy, getting minimal amounts of sleep and focusing on the strangest things to keep himself busy and off the source. He'd made a habit of ringing that god-awful bell up and down the halls before 7:00 in the morning, and calling Five down for the shitty, unnecessarily elaborate breakfast he'd made. 

On one hand, the coffee was shit, but on the other hand, Five would rather wake up early for free coffee than be on the receiving end of Klaus' crocheting phase.

Shit coffee always won over hideous, itchy, personalized scarves.  

With the mostly consistent schedule, however, Five had been waking just before sunrise, never after. Which meant that Klaus hadn't come down the halls ringing his bell, hadn't made coffee, hadn't--

Klaus _hadn't woken him up._  

 _Dead,_ his traitorous mind was already supplying, making his face twist into a scowl. He could still see Klaus' body lying in the ruins of the mansion, cold and dead and dirty, and  _still_. 

Honestly, that had been when it finally sunk in that his family had died-- when he saw Klaus, because Klaus wasn't just 'quiet' like that. Klaus could take a lot of shit, but when he went silent, things were serious. 

Once his mind got on that train of thought, there was no stopping it. Despite knowing full well how ridiculous he was being, Five’s heart still seized in a grip of terror. 

"Shit," Five hissed, tossing his duvet aside and scrambling to his feet.

 

Within seconds, he had warped into Klaus' room and was looking around. The bed was a mess, but that didn't mean anything, and the rest of the room was empty. _God, why didn't I see this coming? He's an addict, of course he was going to go back to the streets eventually._

He warped into the kitchen next, and nearly jumped back a foot in the air when he saw the back of Klaus' head at the kitchen table. 

"Fuck- there you are," Five said, mentally stomping down an overwhelming wave of relief. 

_That means he slept here, and not in some back-alley dumpster. Maybe he's still clean._

But Klaus wasn't moving. There wasn't any coffee on, no plates, no trace of food. He was just- sitting there. 

"Klaus?" He frowned and walked around the table. "Hey, Klaus. _Four_."

Klaus flinched, eyes jumping to where Five was standing. His hands were clutched so tightly around the dog tags he wore that his knuckles were white, and frankly, he looked awful, with dark eyes and skin two shades too pale. 

"Hm?" He cleared his throat, coughing weakly. "What is it? Did I miss the next apocalypse memo or something?"

Five gave him a long look. "What did you take?" He asked. It came out more bluntly than he'd intended. 

Klaus pouted, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Have some faith, little brother! I've been sober for weeks now!"

"I'm literally  _decades_ older than you--" Five forcibly cut himself off, reigning in his frustration and shifting his weight. "Whatever. I just didn't hear you ringing that goddamn bell this morning. You didn't wake me up."

"Aw, you're getting used to it," Klaus cooed. He still sounded weirdly subdued though, like he was only trying to sound normal. He visibly swallowed, eyes flickering over to the other side of the room. Five wondered if he was looking at Ben. 

 _Maybe he can see the ghosts of people I killed,_ he thought morbidly. It was not a pleasant thought. 

He turned to put on his own pot of coffee. 

“So, what? Did you even try to sleep last night, or have you just been sitting there since yesterday?”

"Uh-" Klaus began, shifting restlessly in his seat. He looked very, very tired. Five turned back around and raised an eyebrow. "Mind playing-- twenty questions with me for a minute?"

"What?"

"Nothing too personal," Klaus amended, not quite pulling off a leer, "I promise, little bro. Please?"

Five told himself he agreed purely out of boredom and curiosity. He nodded after a moment.

For some reason, that didn't seem to alleviate whatever weird anxieties were going through his brother's head. "You... you can- we've already established that you can take other people with you, right? When you... use your powers?"

Whatever Five had been expecting, that wasn't it. Momentarily taken off-guard, he hesitated before continuing with the coffee.

"If you're asking me to take you back in time, the answer is no," he said coldly.

Just the thought of changing the timeline sent shivers down his spine. It didn't matter how bored he was in the current world-- he wasn't going to alter it. Not when they'd finally gotten everything right.

Klaus was shaking his head, although he still sounded uncertain. "No, no, no, that's not it. Not time travel, just. Teleporting?"

"Can you get to the point?"

"But you can do it, right?"

_What the hell is he getting at? Why does he look so nervous?_

“Hypothetically.”

Klaus was looking back over at probably-Ben. He still hadn’t released the tags circling his neck. Five narrowed his eyes at the motion.

“Well,” Klaus continued, smirking weakly. “What do you say about taking your dear ol’ brother on a vacation?”

The first thing that came to mind was confusion, because _where in the world would Klaus even want to go?_ He was barely keeping it together in the mansion as it was.

And secondly, of course, was irritation. 

“I’m not your personal jet,” Five snapped. 

Klaus finally let go of the chain, hands coming up in defense. He stood up shakily, and Five didn’t miss how his hand jerked back to lean on the kitchen table for support. 

“Hey, hey, that’s not what I meant! That’s- not what I meant, I’m sorry.” Then, he gave a long-suffering sigh and glanced to the other side of the room. “Ben, I love you, but shut up for two seconds... no, why would I—”

Five didn’t think he’d ever really get used to that. It was strange to think that Ben’s ghost was mere feet away from him, having a full on conversation with his other brother. 

_I should've saved him, too._

Klaus finally turned back to him, evidently sick of arguing with Ben. “Look, I... please?”

That made a knot of something twist itself angrily in Five’s stomach. “Why, so you can go- what, buy yourself something more exotic to get high off of?”

”I’m clean,” Klaus insisted pathetically. 

Five had to give him that. He clearly wasn’t sleeping or taking care of himself, but he looked miserable enough to still be sober. 

“Where would you even want to go, then?” Five asked, unable to assuage the curiosity. “And why?”

”Oh, you know— tourist stuff. I’ve never, ah, really been out of the city, really, so what’s wrong with wanting to see the world?”

That was bullshit. 

“That’s bullshit,” Five said. 

Klaus’ whole body was trembling. “Okay- I don’t have enough money for a plane ticket, as we both know, and if you don’t help a guy out I’ll be hitchhiking, which is dangerous!” His voice was raising to a thin, desperate whine. “Come _onnn_ , Five, please.”

Five watched as Klaus’ hands came up almost subconsciously to grasp at the tags again. 

He was getting the impression that despite the whining and melodrama, this was something serious. 

It was always something serious when Klaus got quiet.

He sighed, and relented, just like he knew he’d be doing when the conversation began. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do than chauffeur Klaus on a world tour, and although he hated to admit it, it could serve as good practice to stretch out his powers. 

“...Where to?”

Klaus looked nearly overcome with relief. “Washington D.C.?”

 

-

 

      Five was almost certain that Klaus was looking for drugs.

For one thing, Klaus hadn't specified a memorial site, so when they arrived in the area, they were already in an alleyway with several unconscious homeless lying around. It already looked like somewhere Five imagined his brother ending up, and he didn't like the implications one bit.

For another thing, the first thing Klaus did was turn and hold his hand out.

"Fifty cents should do it."

"What?" 

Klaus blinked back at him. "For the payphone. I'll call you."

_What a fucking--_

Five put a hand to his stomach, feeling slightly winded from using his power so thoughtlessly. "I'm not going to just sit around waiting for you to call me to pick you up!"

Obviously, Klaus wanted money and time alone to go fuck himself up, but the location just _didn't make sense_. If Klaus really wanted to turn back to drugs, it would've been easier to just sell some of Reginald's shit and go out on his usual streets. 

And Five couldjust leave Klaus to his own fate of self-destruction, but if Diego found out, he'd be pissed. 

(But if he was being completely truthful, Five wasn't all that keen to see his brother go down that road again, either.)

"Ughh," Klaus groaned, running a hand over his face. "You and Ben both." 

Without another word, he began walking out of the alleyway and starting down the street as if he knew exactly where he was going. In a flash of blue, Five was back at his side, following closely. 

He had never been to D.C. before. Maybe that was odd. He hadn't been big on traveling between his time with the Commission and jumping between dates. It just never occurred to him to go traveling simply for pleasure. 

 _I_ _wouldn't mind visiting Istanbul at some point._ He hadn't even considered the possibility of living life that way, of life after the apocalypse. When his power was no longer a tool, but just something he could use the way he wanted, and not for work or for killing or for missions. 

He could go anywhere, and that was... an incredibly freeing feeling.

...and then it occurred to him that Klaus' power didn't really allow for that same freedom. Seeing the dead-- besides Ben, of course-- would always be exactly what it had always been: a fucking nightmare. 

Five glanced over at his brother, who was staggering with a far-off expression on his face. Hands wrapped around the tags like they'd been since that morning. 

Klaus, who was still leading him through the city like a man on a mission. 

"Why are we here, Klaus? What are we doing?"

That familiar irritation was returning with a vengeance, but he bit his tongue and continued following his brother purely out of curiosity. If not to sneak out and relapse, then why? Five wasn't sure any of them had ever been to D.C. before, and they certainly didn't know anyone from the area. But clearly Klaus knew exactly where he was headed.

Honestly, Five should've figured the whole thing out the minute they entered the constitution gardens. When they did, he began to wonder if they were really doing exactly what Klaus had first suggested-- simply tourist sightseeing. 

But then they passed the Three Soldiers statue, and everything began clicking together.

There was a large red, white, and blue garland hung from an easel in front of the sculpture, and two young women standing to the side of it, one with her head in her hands. As they passed, Five stopped and looked at the man in the center for the statue. He was wearing the typical army vest that many soldiers had worn... the same one that Klaus had returned in, the same one that Klaus was wearing just a few feet away from him. 

They were heading to the Vietnam Memorial. 

 _Oh,_ Five thought. 

He tried to sneak a look, tried to get a glimpse of Klaus' expression, but Klaus just looked tired. Five's eyes drifted down to his upper chest, where two fists were wrapped around the dog-tags.

 _Long night,_ Klaus had said.  _They belong to a friend._

 

They walked around a grouping of a large family. One of the women was covering her mouth with one hand, covering her ear with the other. She was staring at one of the engraved names on the wall with a blank look while her presumed family members stood behind her quietly.

He looked past her. 

The sun was just starting to descend, a testimony to both how late Five had woken up and the travel distance from the academy. It was overcast, even so, casting a yellow glaze to everything. The long wall of names seemed to stretch into infinity, the polished black granite taking on a mirror like quality and practically glowing.

Most groups seemed to be leaving, and as they continued down the line it seemed to get more and more isolated. Every few feet there would be someone, either in a small group, family, or just by themselves. 

Five stared at a man in green kneeling by himself as they passed. He had a big furry brown dog next to him, nuzzling at his face and whimpering.

After what seemed like forever, Klaus slowed down and came to a stop before a deserted portion of the wall. Without a word, both of them turned and began looking through the names.

 _There's so many,_ Five thought.  _Which one of these names belongs to someone my brother lost? Was it Glen Roger Collins? Irving H. Hood? Whose names are on those dog tags?_

Klaus had spotted the name in question, though, because his expression spasmed suddenly and his breath hitched audibly. 

"Which one?" Five asked. His voice came out hoarse and thin, and he realized he had barely been breathing during their journey.

Klaus' hand trembled wildly as he reached out, reverently running his fingers over said engraving. It was just above Five's head, just under Klaus' shoulder, and it seemed to take on some cosmic importance.

_Dave Katz._

There was nothing, really, that Five could say. He hadn't known Dave, and he didn't have a face to put with the man. If he was on the wall then he had already died-- and Five had no idea how much pain that in of itself had been, or if Klaus had been able to see or manifest the man. 

Klaus had called him a friend, but Five wasn't an idiot. 

He knew  _exactly_ what it was like to be thrust into a time and place that wasn't your own, what it was like to latch onto the first person you found just to have some form of companionship while you tried to survive. 

Dolores had been a friend, yes-- but it was more than that. Saying 'friend' didn't even begin to cover the half of it.  

And while he watched his brother take a shuddering breath and push his forehead against the glossy granite, Five felt a deep feeling of regret wash over him. Perhaps it was because he hadn't really known or cared to know how much Klaus had been hurting over it-- perhaps it was because he would never actually get to meet the man who was reducing happy-go-lucky Klaus into a crying mess. 

Five swallowed thickly. "...Klaus?" He wasn't expecting an answer. Tentatively, he reached up with with one hand and put it on Klaus' shoulder. It was a bit of a reach. "I'm sorry. I didn't-- I didn't realize."

_You should've known. He practically told you!_

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He cringed the moment he said it, beyond aware that those words meant nothing. That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear after getting back. He sounded like a textbook, or a therapist. He had been in the mindset of 'nobody can help me or make this better' before-- but watching someone else in it was infuriating. It was like a desperate itch, to make everything better, to alleviate his brother's pain somehow.

To his surprise, Klaus' chin dropped to his neck and he let out a miserable-sounding laugh. "You know, I wanted to hate you. Because those maniacs took me, and tortured me, and then I got sent off to war for ten months."

Five flinched.

"But if they hadn't taken me and I hadn't stolen their briefcase, I never would've met _him_. So... fuck, just... thank you." Klaus turned and looked at him with red rimmed eyes. His mouth was twisted upwards, but it took on more of a grimace than a smile. "Dave was... we were..." he paused and swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. "This is probably a weird way to- to come out, huh?"

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Five and he quickly smothered it. "Not trying to fall into stereotypes, but I knew. You know that, right, Klaus? That's-- fine. I don't care who you like, as long as you're happy with them."

Klaus looked him over for a long moment, eyes crinkling into the most genuine smile Five had ever seen. It was almost heartbreaking, because all it did was prove that all of Klaus' other smiles were merely for show. How often had he genuinely smiled like that? Had he ever, since they were children? Had he even then? Five couldn't remember.

"I _was_ happy with him." Klaus said. "I loved him. And on the nineteenth of April, I watched him die. I guess that's all there is to it."

Something in Five's throat tightened at the information. He could see Klaus watching him warily from the corner of his eye, obviously wondering if he was being clear enough. He was. Five understood. "Today's the anniversary of his death, then."

"Yep," Klaus said. 

Then Five realized why Klaus had initially asked him to leave, and suddenly felt very much like an intruder. "I'll go," he said quickly. "I didn't realize—"

"No, no, I was just trying to spare you from seeing me like-- this." Klaus motioned at himself, grinning. "Honestly, I appreciate the company."

"Do the others know?"

"Just Diego. Kind of. And Ben."

 _Is Ben here right now?_ Five wondered idly. Normally the thought made him slightly uncomfortable and a lot sad, but he hoped Ben was-- even if the rest of them had been absolutely shit at noticing, at least Klaus would have Ben at his side.

"If you told the others, they'd come," he said lightly.

"Yeah, I know. Allison, Vanya, Diego could stand awkwardly, over there while Luther freaks out when he finds out Dave is a man. That sounds just- just delightful, little bro. Just like a big happy family." Klaus shook his head, snorting. "Don't take this the wrong way? But I don't think the others would understand." 

The 'like you do'went unsaid.

They stood there for a long time.

Long enough that the sun began to ache behind the huge wall of granite and it became harder and harder to make out the names. It was that awkward period, before the night lights turned on to illuminate the memorial and after the sun lit everything up on it's own-- and at that time, there were very few others still remaining. 

Surprisingly enough, Five wasn't bored out of his wits, although his main reason for staying was still to support his brother. At some point, Klaus sat cross-legged on the ground (bare-footed, Five just noticed), neck arched to continue looking up at Dave's engraving. Five eventually joined him, completely lost in thought. 

No, the others wouldn't understand. They'd all lost someone, in one way or another, but time travel... time travel complicated things. It was different.  _It's still your world, in a sense,_ Five thought,  _but it's really, really not. Getting there or coming back-- you always feel a bit like a misshapen puzzle piece afterwards._

He'd had decades to get used to the feeling, but coming back to his original time had resurfaced everything. Klaus hadn't been gone for as long of a time, but he was still so young...

And yes, he saw the irony in saying that from the body of a thirteen year old boy. 

"I am proud of you," he said quietly, breaking the silence they'd fallen into. "You know. For staying sober."

"Aww, Fivesy, you're making me blush."

"Shut up."

Klaus shrugged. "Yeah, well. I finally have the motivation for it." His eyes flicked upwards and to the left. "I didn't mean it like _that_ , Ben."

Well, that answered one of his questions.

The world darkened dramatically as the sun fell behind one of the taller skyscrapers in the distance, and simultaneously, bright lights lit up on the ground, illuminating the memorial once more. There were more people coming in groups, walking hand in hand-- more couples, less families; the night crowd.

Klaus staggered to his feet and the happy-go-lucky façade vanished as he pressed his lips to Dave Katz’s name. He seemed to murmur something under his breath before turning around with glistening eyes and the same shaky hands. Rather than the wistful calm, or sarcastic mask, it seemed Klaus was falling back to withdrawn grief. 

"Okay. Let's, uh, let's go, then?" 

 _Leaving them the second time can be just as hard._ An idea popped into Five's head. He gave his brother a tight, reassuring smile before placing a hand on his shoulder and taking them away in a snap of blue. 

 

-

 

          He didn't take them back to the mansion immediately. Instead, he teleported them to one of his most beloved places-- somewhere he could travel to in the blink of an eye, without having to truly think about it. 

Klaus blinked in confusion and turned in a full circle to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating. He wiped the remnants of tears from his eyes and quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry, you know I love shopping just as much as the next grieving séance, but what are we doing in a retail store?"

The store was closed, although outside of the windows, the sky was a bit lighter than it had been in D.C.. 

"I want to show you something." Five said, leading the way through the darkly lit department. He made a beeline towards several stands, moving more based on muscle memory than anything else.

Dolores came into view, along with several of her friends. She was wearing a fluorescent yellow shirt covered in sequins, and Five had to give that employee he'd talked to some credit. It was hideous, but it looked like something Dolores would like. 

"Hi, Dolores," Five said. He saw Klaus's entire head swing around to stare at him from his peripheral vision. Understanding.

"Dolores?" Klaus asked, a bit breathlessly. "You mean..." he took a step forward and looked at the mannequin on the far right, gently grabbing one of its hands. "Wow. It's an honor to meet my brother's companion."

Five rolled his eyes, shoving down nervous embarrassment. "No, you idiot-- Dolores is the one in the middle. Yellow sequins."

"Oh, thank fuck," Klaus said. "I was hoping she'd have some sense of style." And then, turning to the one he'd mistaken for Dolores, he added, "no offense, love."

Five knew his, ah, relationship with Dolores was unconventional. They'd met in a post-apocalyptic setting, after all, and they were all they had. Not everyone could understand that. Had he brought another one of the Hargreeves siblings, he knew what reaction he'd be met with.

Disbelief. Pity. Skepticism. 

And then there was Klaus, who took it all in stride without so much as a question. 

"Lovely to meet you! I've heard you're the one who kept my brother's head on tight--"

Maybe it was because none of them had believed Klaus on so many different occasions.

Five walked up to Dolores and couldn't stop himself from resting one hand on the nape of her neck, exhaling slowly at the familiar touch. "It's good to see you again. This is my brother, Klaus- you know him already. The one who assaulted you in the back of that van?"

That earned a well-deserved grimace, although Klaus was clearly trying, and failing, to hold in more laughter. 

“Sorry about that, I’m an asshole, I know. Bad first impressions.” Klaus nodded earnestly, gesturing towards his smeared eyeliner. “And I’m sure this isn’t much better for a second. I normally look better than this.”

Dolores laughed. Five scowled. “No you don’t.”

”So mean. Don't listen to him, darling." 

He was taking it in stride but his eyes were still bloodshot and his whole body still shook with tremors.  _Why did I think this would fix anything?_ Turning away, Five prepared himself for the real reason he brought both of them here. 

"Look. I just wanted to say-- I get it more than the others ever will. I come here a lot, just to visit Dolores. We're living different lives now, but... some people are just unforgettable, aren't they?"

He wasn’t being subtle at all, was he? He wasn’t good with all the ‘feeling’ stuff, but he figured it was important for him to acknowledge. 

Klaus’s lip turned up. "Thanks, Five," he mumbled.

"So... just let me know if you want to go back there to visit him. I'm not your personal jet, but just consider it a favor."

_Dave is your Dolores. I get it._

"Thank you," Klaus repeated seriously.

_You don't have to deal with it alone. Not like I did. I just hope that one day you can conjure him on your own._

"It was nice seeing you," Five told Dolores. Then, to Klaus: "Back to the mansion?"

Klaus nodded, eyes shining as he looked at Dolores. Patted the metal over his chest with one hand. Closed his eyes for a moment. "Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Home.

Is that what the mansion was? What a strange concept. Five had something of a difficult time remembering his short childhood there, but he knew that it had never felt like a home. Maybe a school, if he was being nice. Perhaps a  _house,_ even... but never a home.

It couldn’t have felt like a home to any of them, could it? Perhaps Luther, but he always seemed to be the exception. And then Five, and presumably Klaus, had spent years in homelessness. 

Huh. A home. 

Five thought about Klaus ringing the bell up and down the hallways in the still-dark hours of the morning and felt fondness bubble up in his chest. His brother making him breakfast to distract himself from addiction. Staying when the others had all left. 

“Go home,” Dolores said. 

She had always been bittersweet like that. Visiting her brought back the same feeling, but like he’d said, they were living different lives. Still, Five knew he would always love her. Decades spent with the same person did that. 

But at the moment, his consisted of rebuilding whatever life he could manage. 

“Okay.” He looked at Klaus. “Home it is.” 

They vanished in another burst of blue. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if Klaus seemed a little OOC, I was trying to capture bits of him grieving, letting go of his normal façade— plus he’s sober, which can’t help. Let me know what you thought!!
> 
> I've never been to the Vietnam memorial in DC myself so I hope I didn't get anything glaringly wrong, I tried to research it a lot. Seriously, though, thanks for all the feedback, I really do appreciate the heck out of it.


End file.
